Chapter 9
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Benjamin’s brow furrowed deeply as he stepped closer. The photo showed Elizabeth smiling serenely, forever frozen in shades of gray.
Just moments ago in Robert’s embrace, and now playing this fake death game?
Is she binge–watching too many soap operas, actually thinking I’d buy this?
The more he thought about it, the more that sliver of unease in Benjamin’s heart was consumed by rage.
He stepped forward and violently smashed Elizabeth’s portrait.
Glass fragments scattered across the floor, even Elizabeth’s photo torn by the shards.
He roared angrily.
“You think this stunt will stop me from holding her legally accountable?”
“Tell Elizabeth this: Playing dead won’t work! I’ll sue her for violating the non–compete agreement by secretly profiting from her alt account!”
As his words hung in the air, Olivia stared at the shattered photo on the floor, feeling like her heart was bleeding too.
Her Elizabeth, who’d endured so much inhuman suffering.
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She had always regretted this unrequited love. To avoid burdening Benjamin and to spare him sorrow after she left, she endured all the pain herself.
But he was not only a wealthy heir pretending poverty; he even disturbed her peace after her death.
Now, the rage boiled over.
Olivia grabbed Benjamin: “Benjamin, are you heartless or blind?”
“If you want to sue her, go ahead. She truly is gone; she died of bone cancer! The night before she passed, she was still watching the fireworks you set off for Victoria!”
Hearing this, Benjamin grew more convinced this was a play they staged.
He sneered: “Can’t you get your acting script straight? I don’t have time, for your dirty games.”
“Just pregnant for five months and now dead of bone cancer?”
“Do you have any medical sense? Can someone with cancer even get pregnant?”
After saying this, Benjamin turned and walked away.
Olivia stood behind, eyes red from crying, picking up Elizabeth’s shattered memorial photo.
Piece by piece she tried to reassemble it: “Who’s the ignorant one here? That was ascites.”
“Elizabeth, don’t grieve over such a man…”
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Frustrated by the impossible task, she suddenly collapsed with a wail.
“My Elizabeth, why did it have to be you? Why you?”
Meanwhile, Benjamin returned to the villa.
Agitated, he stood before floor–to–ceiling windows smoking half a pack, yet the gloom persisted.
Victoria pushed open the door: “Benjamin, why so much smoking? Let’s discuss wedding arrangements-”
He cut her off impatiently: “Decide yourself.”
As she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, he pried her fingers off one by one: “Get out.”
Victoria choked back a sob: “Benjamin, we’re about to get married. Are you still holding onto that cold–hearted, vicious woman? We’re husband and wife–why do you recoil when I embrace you?”
Benjamin’s gaze sliced through her inch by inch: “You? You’re unworthy to criticize Elizabeth.”
“Whether there’s a child in your belly–you know the truth.”
Half a month ago, she’d forced marriage with pregnancy claims, having bribed the doctor.
Did she truly believe he couldn’t see through such a despicable scheme?
Benjamin had no interest in her tearful explanations. He turned and
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retreated to the study.
Just as he sat down, his phone vibrated abruptly. Opening it, he found a message from the company’s legal department—
[Apologies, Mr. Hayes. We cannot sue Miss Montgomery as her death registration is complete.]
